


Heroes

by ExpressAndAdmirable



Series: The Heroes of Light [74]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Final Fantasy I
Genre: Drow, Epilogue, F/F, F/M, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Time Skip, Pregnancy, Romance, Tiefling, high elf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 03:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16673479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpressAndAdmirable/pseuds/ExpressAndAdmirable
Summary: Nearly a decade after saving the world, Lux has news for Sol and Elerian.





	Heroes

Aviva offered a thin, sleepless smile as Halei returned to their quarters, her bare feet soundless against the rich carpet. Elerian followed close behind her, pale green robes drawn somewhat haphazardly about his shoulders. Where the Drow’s expression was one of cautious confusion, the High Elf showed outright concern, roused as he had been from reverie in the grey light of early dawn. “Thank you, sunshine,” Aviva murmured. “Good morning, elrandir.” Her sun and her star-wanderer, who made her heart whole. Sitting primly on the sofa, hands clasped in her lap, she shifted slightly to make space at either side and waited for the Elves to join her.

“ _Ci maer_ , Aviva?” _Are you well?_ Sinking onto the sofa and resting a hand on the Tiefling’s knee, Elerian searched her face for the cause of his summoning. No longer possessed of the gift of foresight granted him by the cycle, the Seer could divine little from the nervous uncertainty in her eyes. Rather than sit at her other side, Halei remained standing, folding her arms and frowning at the floor as she resisted the urge to pace. All the Elves knew for certain was that Aviva had been ill for several days, and early-morning conversations rarely contained good news.

Realising her wife was not of a mind to sit, Aviva clucked her tongue and reached upward, slipping her fingers beneath Halei’s crossed arms and finding the hidden hand. Her other hand covered Elerian’s, her expression softening into a somewhat more reassuring smile. “I’m alright, I think. I’m sorry for the urgency, I just wanted to speak with you both as soon as possible. I, ah…” She looked from one Elf to the other, her gaze finally settling on the carpet at her feet as she took a deep breath. No sense in beating about the bush. “I’m pregnant.”

Elerian started, meeting Halei’s wide eyes over Aviva’s head before focusing on the Tiefling. The smile that spread across his face vanished as quickly as it appeared, worry drawing taut lines across his boyish features. “Aviva… You bring us joyous tidings. Why do you speak with such unease? What troubles you?”

“You’re worried about us, aren’t you?” asked Halei softly.

Aviva opened her mouth to answer the High Elf, looked up at the Drow in surprise, then huffed a bemused laugh and tugged at her to sit. “You know me too well.” Halei snorted but obliged the pull, settling on the sofa and sliding an arm around Aviva’s waist. The Tiefling continued, her words slow and measured: “We’ve already had all the talks about my lifespan versus yours. Even if I choose to come ‘round again after Aviva Lux is gone, I’ll still be someone new. This version of me will only be here so long. We’ve all of us, I think, come to terms with that.” She swallowed hard, her forced calm slipping. “But a child is different. Having a child with me means you won’t just watch me die -- you’ll watch _them_ die, and their children, and their children’s children. Having me as a mother shortens all of their lives.” Lifting Elerian’s hand from her knee, she placed it atop Halei’s against her belly and covered them with both of hers. “Are either of you ready to go through that?”

For a few contemplative moments, no-one spoke. Elerian frowned at the hands on Aviva’s belly as he gathered his thoughts; Halei rested her forehead against the Tiefling’s shoulder and exhaled slowly. Finally, Elerian lifted his head. “If I may,” he began, pausing as both women met his eyes, “while your ability to put others’ needs before your own has always been admirable, I think I speak for both Haluei’en and myself when I ask: what do _you_ want?”

“We’ve all lost so much in this life,” Aviva protested, her shoulders falling slightly. “I don’t want to give you another thing to lose. My people’s lives are so brief compared to yours. It’s-- It’s like Wilhelm said once: we tend to look older when you look away for too long. Even having Elven blood will only do so much. _You are going to watch your child die_. Is that little time going to be worth it?”

“That’s not what he asked,” Halei chided gently, the smallest smile playing at her lips. “You’re tangling yourself up in the future again. We can get to that later. Right here, now, in _this_ moment of _this_ life: what do you want?”

Aviva opened her mouth, closed it again. She looked over her shoulder at Halei, back to Elerian, silently pleading for direction, but her loves simply waited. Gods damn them, did they not see the heartache that would befall them? The loss, the pain? Her throat tight, she let her gaze drop to the collection of hands on her belly, pale and crimson and slate-grey. Her family. She knew there was only one answer.

“I want to have this baby,” she whispered.

A sharp exhale, almost a laugh, escaped from one of the Elves, and when Aviva looked up, Elerian was beaming. “I would be remiss if I said I’d never given thought to this day. To have a child… For my part, at least, it has been ever a source of joyful anticipation.” He tucked a lock of errant blond hair behind his ear and stretched his free arm along the back of the sofa, not moving his hand from Aviva’s belly. “We are Elves. Even the most withdrawn of our kind will eventually find themselves caring for those with shorter lives than ours. It is simply the way of things. We must all, at one point or another, make our peace with the inevitability of watching those people grow old and pass on. Have you not done the same for Grummer?”

“Grummer was old when we met--” Aviva started, but a look from Elerian quieted her. She knew that look; it was one that both her Elves had perfected. The ‘ _Aviva, you’re talking yourself into a worry spiral_ ’ look. She huffed in frustration. “Won’t it be different?” she tried instead. “When it’s your own child?”

Elerian shrugged. “Perhaps. In fact, I daresay it will be quite different. It is never a simple thing to lose someone we love. But for my part, I’m more than willing to take that risk.” His smile returned. “It would be my honour.”

Aviva returned the smile in spite of herself. He had, as always, managed to balance that most inexplicable mixture of aged wisdom and youthful candor. But he was not the love she had held in their time of mourning; who would, in some ways, always bear the scars of the events that had led them to their shared destiny nearly a decade prior. Releasing the hands on her belly, Aviva leaned back into the sofa cushions to see both Elves more clearly. “Halei,” she addressed her wife, taking the same even tone as before. “My Sol. Our first night together, you said you had never thought about children. That it had never been your role to do so. That you likely could have, if you’d wanted, but you never had the time.”

Halei let out a puff of air. “Yeah, that sounds like me.” A wry smile. “Well remembered. It was a good night.”

It _was_ a good night, and Aviva allowed herself a small smile at the memory before pursing her lips. “Now’s the time, my love.” She held the Drow’s ice blue gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve never been anything but honest with me. I need that honesty now, because I’m not going to do this without you. Knowing everything that will come, the generations of heartache and goodbyes… Do you want to be a mother?”

Though she did not look away, Halei was silent for some time. She brushed her fingers along Aviva’s jaw as she considered her answer, a gesture that had remained unchanged since the first time they touched. Finally, she sighed again. “I’m scared. Of course I'm scared. You're not wrong about anything, and we'd be idiots not to acknowledge that. There will be pain someday.” She smirked. “But you know me: I've never been one to think too far beyond the here and now.” Her smirk became a lopsided yet genuine smile. “We’ll face the future as it comes. If you’ve taught me anything, it's that to have lost more than most means you’ve loved more than most. That love seems pretty worthwhile to me.” The smile spread into a full-fledged grin. “And fool on you for thinking either of us would ever look away for too long.”

Releasing something between a sniffle and a laugh, Aviva took Halei’s face in both hands and kissed her. “Fool on me indeed.” The knot in the pit of her stomach began to ease, the fear in her heart replaced by elation. Wiping away the tears that threatened the corners of her eyes, she turned to Elerian and drew him into a kiss of his own. “Okay.” She nodded, breaking into a grin. “Okay!” Letting her body relax forward, she dropped her head into her hands, expelling the last of her nervous tension in one great breath. “Okay.”

Elerian glanced at Haluei’en, his expression a silent question. The Drow nodded, the lines around her eyes creasing as she smiled. Yes, she meant every word. Yes, she was ready. Yes.

Sitting up again only to slouch comfortably low on the sofa, Aviva laced her fingers over her belly, suddenly itching to dive into the details of what was to come. “Will we have to make some sort of royal proclamation?” she asked, peering up at Elerian. “Because if we announce anything to your nation before telling my mother, she may never forgive me.”

The High Elf laughed lightly. “Eventually, yes, but it needn’t be soon. We have plenty of time for private notifications. I shall need to speak with my spouses, and eventually make a formal statement to my advisors. Any public declaration will wait until we’ve had the chance to spread the news to friends and loved ones.”

“Morgan’s going to _flip_ ,” Aviva chuckled.

“I expect the same of Astos.” Leaning in conspiratorially, Elerian dropped his voice. “He would be loathe to admit it, but he has a rather significant soft spot for children.”

Both women snorted. “You say that like it’s supposed to be a secret.” Aviva shook her head. “I’ve seen your husband around children, elrandir; he turns into a complete mama bear.” A pause, then a small shrug. “Maybe seeing the leader of the Wood Elves doting on the Prince of Aelfheim’s baby will help bring you one step closer to peace.” She pressed her palms more firmly against her belly; she had, for the most part, become accustomed to being seen as a living symbol for the peoples of the world, but she wondered how that life would affect the child.

“Is this baby going to be in the line of succession?” asked Halei next, propping her elbow on the back of the sofa and resting her cheek on her hand. “Do surface Elves _have_ a line of succession?”

“Mmm…” Elerian tilted his head from side to side. “Not as such. Succession is not quite as simple as ‘child of the current monarch’. When it comes time to choose an heir, I will do so, and train them as necessary. It could be that this child is the most likely candidate; should that be so, it would be up to the three of us to determine, as parents, if we want the child to assume that responsibility, then to the child themselves to determine if they are capable. More concisely: possibly, but not for a while yet.”

Aviva mulled over the Seer’s words. “That seems nicer, I think. Doesn't put all the weight on her immediately. She’ll get a bit of a normal childhood, or at least as normal as we can give her.”

“She?” Halei raised a brow.

“I dunno,” Aviva shrugged, “feels like a she. I mean, once they’re born they can be whatever they want, but for now she feels like a she.”

“A little moon,” Elerian smiled. “A reflection of you.”

“Well, I mean, she’s going to be a reflection of all three of us,” Aviva demurred, but the flush of excitement across her cheeks belied her protest.

“Better be.” Halei smirked. “If you think I’m not teaching that kid everything I know about getting into trouble, you’re sorely mistaken. She’ll be bar fighting before she can walk.”

“Halei _no!_ ” Aviva giggled, covering her face with her hands to block out the very thought.

“Halei _yes_ ,” Elerian replied immediately. While the two Elves had never shared any romantic inclinations, their mutual affection for the Tiefling between them had transformed their professional relationship into a deep, often mischievous friendship. “I imagine it falls to me to teach her proper etiquette. Can’t have her following _too_ closely in your reprobate footsteps.”

Halei scoffed. “Please. I am a servant of the divine. Like you’ve never played a prank at a formal function.”

“I would _never!_ ” Elerian retorted, putting a hand to his chest in mock offense, but his expression quickly turned sheepish. “The last time I tried, Celestine read me the riot act.”

“Wives are good for that.” Halei winked at Aviva, who gave her a playful scowl in return. Then a wave of nausea turned her stomach and she curled in on herself, groaning pitifully.

“Gods, please, deliver me from morning sickness!”

Elerian offered a sympathetic laugh. “Is there nought we can provide for you?”

“No.” Aviva shook her head miserably. “It’ll pass in a few weeks. Then I’ll just progressively take up more space and need to pee all the time.” She sighed dramatically, imagining the changes in store for her body. Out loud, somewhat to herself: “It’s a good thing I didn't get my nipples pierced when I was drunk with Morgan in Corneria last year.”

“You were going to get your nipples pierced?” Halei sounded intrigued, and more than a little disappointed it had not come to pass.

“For an inebriated minute. Ship’s sailed on that now.” Aviva counted off the forbidden items on her fingers. “Also on the list of don’ts: don’t drink, don’t smoke, probably shouldn't get tattooed. No sushi, black tea, hot baths, flying, sleeping on my back, heavy lifting, cured meats, soft cheeses, cannabis, stress in any form, or basically anything fun or taxing.” A pause. “I did some research. Oh, and no oral sex.”

Elerian blinked in sharp surprise. “ _Excuse me?_ ”

Aviva grinned. It was not often the Seer was caught completely off-guard, but she tended to be the cause more frequently than most. “You heard me. Evidently, getting air up there can be fatal. Best to avoid it altogether.”

“She’s right,” Halei added helpfully.

Coughing politely, Elerian gave a curt nod. “Good to know.”

“What I’m hearing is, now that you’re pregnant, you’re suddenly made of glass.” Halei’s ever-present smirk was playful. “Means it’s up to us to stop you running off and being a menace to yourself. Really, we should be grateful. You’ve given us a right good excuse to duck out of boring commitments.”

“I have never wanted anything more,” Aviva answered dryly, but her smile was far too broad for mockery. “By all means, use it as much as you like. I certainly will. ‘Can’t deal with your bullshit today, I am simply _too fuckin’ pregnant!_ Got to roll myself on home now, fuckity bye!’”

Soft laughter surrounded her, bright and beautiful as the warmth of a hearth. As it faded, she reached for the Drow’s hand, then for the High Elf’s, looking them each in the eye before speaking. “This is… not a chance I thought I’d ever have again. I’m not even sure I would have wanted the chance, but now that it’s here, I… I can’t imagine not taking it. In this life, with you, it feels… right.”

“Too many lifetimes cut off too soon,” Halei murmured, broadening the meaning of Aviva’s words. In all the cycles they had spent together, they had never once lived long enough for children, though many incarnations had wanted them. Then the Drow smiled. “If I recall our first night correctly, I also said there would be a lot of your life left to decide again. So here’s to that.”

“Here’s to that,” Elerian echoed.

“Here’s to that.” Aviva spread her loves’ fingers against her belly, still soft and unobtrusive for the time being, and looked again at the strange rainbow of colour. For the first time since she had started to suspect there was life forming inside her, she was not afraid. What had been a source of uncertainty and dread had, all of a sudden, become the start of the next great adventure. There would be pain for them someday. There would be loss. But between now and then there would be so, so much love. 

“I’m going to have a baby.” Her sunshine, her starlight, and now her little moon. She laughed. “ _We’re going to have a baby!_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Title song by David Bowie.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at @expressandadmirable for a proper table of contents for the Heroes campaign, commissioned character art, text-based roleplay snippets and more!


End file.
